An Island Ballad
by missmissa85
Summary: New York is an island. Eventually, you're going to run into someone you'd rather avoid for one reason or another. Jamie Reagan's reasons for avoiding Katie O'Hara are emotional and historical.


A/N: I don't often venture from sci-fi/genre writing, but Blue Bloods is my current obsession and this is how I exorcise my obsessions. So...enjoy, or tell me I suck. Thanks for reading!

* * *

"Why did Grandma make a 9/11 scrapbook?" Nicky Reagan-Boyle asked her grandfather as she placed the leather-bound book on her lap. "It seems kind of morbid."

Frank considered his granddaughter for a moment before he folded the newspaper in his hands and placed it on his lap. "Your grandmother didn't memorialize much, but that was a day that changed the world, and this city, and this family. She knew how important it would be to look back on it after the passage of time."

"I don't really remember it," Nicky said quietly as she opened the book. "I have to write a report about it. My teacher thinks it'll be good for us to look back on that day with fresh eyes."

"Speaking as the police commissioner, taking a second look with fresh eyes often comes in useful."

"Well, it's not as though there's a mystery to solve," Nikki said. "Everyone knows what happened."

"Everyone knows the big story, but there are thousands of other stories, and maybe a few mysteries too," Frank told her.

Nicky nodded as she turned the pages. Her eyes lighted upon a picture that she hadn't seen a hundred times since she was four-years-old. It was from the St. Brendan's school newspaper dated September 14th, 2001. In the photo was her an imaged of her teenaged uncle, Jamie, kneeling on the ground embracing a sobbing red-headed girl while she held onto him for dear life. She looked closer and realized she recognized the girl in question. The caption on the photograph read, 'Sophomores Jamie Reagan and Katie O'Hara embrace on the quad mere moments after the attack on the World Trade Center began.'

"Grandpa, who was Katie O'Hara?"

Frank looked over his glasses at the girl and smiled sadly. "You found the picture from the school paper."

Nicky nodded. "Was she Uncle Jamie's girlfriend, or something? I kind of remember her from Sunday dinners."

"She wasn't at the time the picture was taken, although she should have been," Frank replied with a slight shrug.

''I'm surprised the picture didn't wind up in the _Times_ or something," Nicky stated as she perused the attached article. "It's the sort of thing newspapers like that eat up."

"They tried," Frank told her. "Especially when they found out the picture featured the commissioner's grandson and a girl who lost multiple family members in the Towers."

"Who did she lose in the Towers?" Nikki asked.

"Well, Katie was something of a late surprise to her parents," Frank began.

"Like Jamie."

"Just like Jamie," Frank confirmed. "Her mother was some sort of debutante back in her youth, but her dad was a cop, and she and Jamie hit it off the first day of kindergarten. You see, she lived in her some of her siblings' shadows, too. Her older sister was a beauty queen and her brother was a football hero. By the time Katie was in high school, her sister was married to hedge fund manager and her brother was an officer with the Port Authority. Her sister and mother were supposed to have breakfast at Windows on the World with the brother-in-law that morning."

Nicky's eyes slowly filled with tears as the weight of her grandfather's words hit her. "Did she lose everyone?"

Frank shook his head. "No. Her mother was running late. She watched the first plane hit from the back of a cab. Her dad was all the way up in the Bronx and out of danger, though he of course responded. But the sister and brother-in-law were trapped after the first plane hit, and her brother died when the second tower came down."

Nicky looked back down at the picture and said, "This says this picture was taken moments after the attack started. Is that just hyperbole, or ... "

"No, it is not," Pops answered, shuffling into the room. "As soon as he'd seen what happened, that kid didn't think about calling his father, grandfather, or two cop brothers. The first thing he did was abandon the little chicky he was with at the time and find Katie O'Hara."

"Pops always liked Katie," Frank explained as his father sat down next to Nicky.

"What wasn't to like? She was smart, funny, cute as a button, and had a fire in her bones only an Irish redhead could match," Pops explained with a smile. "They were together right up until they graduated. Could have sworn they were gonna get hitched someday."

"But I thought you liked Sydney?" Nicky asked her great-grandfather.

"I did, but she wasn't Katie O'Hara," Pops replied with a definitive nod.

Nicky chuckled and turned her attention back to her grandfather. "Why did they break up?"

"Simple version: Jamie went off to Harvard and she stayed in the city," Frank replied.

"She wasn't a slouch, though. She was pre-law at Columbia before she got her master's in social work from NYU," Pops added.

"You seem to be quite the expert."

"I see her at various charities around…and I try to get to the rest home at least once a month to play chess with old Pete," Pops explained. "He was under my command at Brooklyn North, you know."

"Rest home?" Nicky asked with a raised eyebrow. "Her dad couldn't be much older than Grandpa. Why is he in a rest home?"

"Early-onset Alzheimer's," Frank replied. "Went on disability a couple of years ago."

"And her mom?"

"Now, you see, that's where Jamie really messed up."

"Pop—"

"No, Francis, you weren't here when it all went down. That girl practically begged him to stay because her mom had just been diagnosed, and he told her no because all of you were bullying him to get out of the city and become anything but a cop," Pops cut him off angrily.

"That is not how it was."

"That's kind of how it was," Nicky muttered under her breath.

Frank looked at her over his glasses and she shrank slightly under his gaze. "I just remember Uncle Jamie being kind of...glum at the time. I didn't really understand why until we were all older."

"Yeah, well, I think Katie knew what everyone else was trying to deny: that Jamie is a cop and always was," Pops said with a firm nod.

Frank rolled his eyes and shook his head. Nicky, however, smiled and said, "You wouldn't have any way to get in touch Katie O'Hara, would you, Pops?"

"I might. Why you asking, Pancake?"

"Well, I have to do this report about looking back on 9/11 with fresh eyes, and grandpa said there were thousands of stories I could write about," Nicky explained. "I think maybe I should write about Katie's story."

She ignored the dubious look her grandfather gave her as her great-grandfather shuffled out of the room to get Katie O'Hara's contact information.

* * *

Jamie knew he really should just go home and go to sleep, but the apartment was empty and he just didn't want to be alone after the tour he just had. He was surprised to find the light was still on and his father was in the living room looking through a scrapbook.

"Rough tour?" Frank asked without looking up.

"Not really," Jamie replied, coming into the sitting room and plopping down on the couch. "What's got you up so late?"

"Nicky has to do a report on 9/11. She found the old scrapbook your mother made," Frank explained. "She got particularly interested in this."

Frank passed the scrapbook to his son. Jamie released a deep sigh when he saw the clipping within it. Frank leaned forward and rested his elbows on top of his thighs as he regarded his son more closely. "Apparently, Pops has seen more of her in the last few years than the rest of us. She's something of a crusader in her line of work; standing up to gangsters and drug dealers where she's got cases," he explained, looking at Jamie for some sort of response.

"Well, I guess that's one for the 'small world' category. I saw her tonight."

"On your tour?"

"It was _after_ my tour. I was headed to the subway and then I saw this kid we picked up in a gang bust last week. He kind of looked nervous, so I followed him."

"You didn't call anybody?"

"There wasn't anyone to call. He hadn't actually done anything and I didn't want to look like I was...harassing the guy."

"But you still followed him?"

"I know, I know. I can't be a cop and a lawyer at the same time," Jamie said, preempting the oncoming lecture. "Anyway, that's not the point. The point is I did actually see him do something."

"What did you see?"

"Well, that's the small world part…"

* * *

Jamie felt a little like a creepy stalker, but that famous Reagan gut was telling him the guy was up to something. His police training was telling him to call it in. His years of law school were telling him not to make the police department look bad with unfounded reports. Then he saw the young man grab a woman's arm and pull at her violently. He drew his gun and loudly identified himself. The perp then let go of the woman's arm and grabbed at her bag. Jamie ran forward, but the would-be victim had already rabbit-punched the perp in the throat and kneed him in the balls, crippling him to a groaning ball on the sidewalk.

"Whoa, whoa, I think you got him," Jamie said, pulling her back before she could hit him with her bag. His breath caught in his throat when she turned her head and her face was just inches from his. "Katie?"

She shook his hands off her shoulders and said, "You gonna cuff this guy, or are you just gonna stand there with your mouth open?"

"Sorry," he muttered, quickly moving to cuff the perp's hands behind his back. The perp was still groaning from having Katie O'Hara's knee in his groin. "On your feet."

"Look, man, I was just pushing her away from the curb."

"She was five feet from the curb, numb-nuts," Jamie told him as he finished patting the guy down and pulled out his cell phone.

"Wait," Katie said, holding out a hand to stop Jamie.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't call it in."

"I have to call it in."

"I know this kid. Isn't that right, Darnell?"

"I'm sorry, Ms. O," Darnell replied, looking at his shoes.

"You're sorry? Darnell Williams, do you even know what's going to happen when Officer Reagan hits the send button on his phone?" Katie asked him. "Your baby sister goes into the foster system, which is not what your mother wanted when she was dying in that hospital bed. Even as Kalla's social worker, I can't do anything to stop that."

"I know, Ms. O, I just-I just needed the money."

"What happened to your job?"

"It's not enough," Darnell muttered.

"Oh, so, if I talked to Mr. Singh, you would still be working at his bodega, right?"

"I am. I swear."

"I'm calling this in," Jamie interrupted.

"Don't. I'm not pressing charges."

Jamie blinked at her. "I saw what he did. I can press charges."

"Your sister wouldn't even get the chance to laugh at you before your CO cut him loose without a victim willing to press charges."

"You know what? I think you may be in shock and unable to make a clear judgment at this time."

"Don't make me smack you, Jamie."

"You threatening a police officer now?"

"I doubt you have a second set of cuffs in those jeans."

"I got some zip cuffs. You wanna see how those feel."

She looked him straight in the eye and said, "Let him go, Jameson. If there's one thing Harvard Law did for you, I'm sure it was to tell you that you don't have a case if there's no victim to press charges. Let him go."

Jamie held in his raging emotions as he unlocked the cuffs. "There you go," he said through gritted teeth.

"Go home, Darnell."

"Thanks, Ms. O," Darnell said before bolting away.

"He's not going to go home," Jamie told her flatly.

"I know where he lives. And you don't know him, Jamie."

"You're the one that punched him in the throat."

"He startled me."

"He tried to grab you."

"He tried to grab my purse."

Jamie shook his head. "I know what I saw."

"Of course you do," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she turned away from him.

"You're making a mistake," he called after her.

She quickly turned back on him and hissed, "You lost the right to talk to me like that a long time ago."

"I'm not talking to you as your ex-boyfriend, I'm talking to you as a cop," he bit back.

"You know, you never had much of a poker face, Jamie."

"So I've been told. That guy is going to come after you again," he told her matter-of-factly.

"No, he isn't."

"Katie—" He reached out and grabbed her wrist to stop her from leaving. She replied by slapping him hard across the face. Despite the pain in his cheek, he still held onto her wrist. "I could arrest you for that."

She smiled a little too sweetly and said, "The P.C's son arrests his high school sweetheart for assaulting an officer; that's never gonna happen."

Jamie opened his hand and Katie jerked her wrist away from him. "Be careful," he told her quietly.

"Like you care," she replied, glaring at him as she stepped away. "You know what, Jamie, if you want to blow off steam after your tour, you should just run. It's what you're best at."

Jamie didn't know if the tears forming in his eyes were from anger or sadness.

* * *

Frank nodded slowly as Jamie finished his story. "You do understand that you did almost nothing right in that situation."

It was a statement, not a question, and Jamie just nodded in response.

"She made a good point, though. The young man would have been back on the street in a matter of hours without a victim to press charges, especially since he didn't even finish committing the crime," Frank said.

"But he grabbed her first, Dad; not her bag, her."

"You sure?"

"I'm positive. I identified myself and he grabbed her bag," Jamie replied firmly. "The only reason I can think of someone would do that is because an attempted mugging looks a lot better than an attempted kidnapping."

"Maybe. But you patted him down. He didn't have a weapon."

Jamie sighed. "I know. He didn't even have a pocketknife. I didn't have any reason to keep him, otherwise I would have."

"I know you would," Frank said.

"Why would anyone want to kidnap her, though?" Jamie asked, standing up and beginning to pace.

"Jamie, are you sure you're not just running after this because you feel guilty?"

"Feel guilty for what?"

"For the way things ended between you."

"Dad-"

"Do I need to remind you about that poker face again? Pops told me he heard you. He was here when you broke up."

Jamie's eyes widened. "Exactly how much did Pops hear?" he asked nervously.

"Enough to know you were fornicating beforehand," Pops replied as he came into the room in his bathrobe.

Jamie's response was to turn as white as a sheet. "Surprised you never brought that up at family dinner," he muttered, looking at his shoes.

"There is a code, you know," Pops said, sitting down on the couch. "Your mother would have murdered you...or worse."

"That's a detail you left out earlier," Frank said to his father.

"There was no need for Nicky to know," Pops explained. "Not that I completely mind, why is Katie O'Hara suddenly such a hot topic of conversation in this house?"

"I ran into her tonight, and I think something may be going on," Jamie quickly replied. "You told Dad earlier that she's gotten into it with gang leaders before. Do you think it was bad enough for them to put a price on her head?"

"Not just for the little I've seen, but I don't know everything Katie gets up to," Pops said, sipping the cup of warm milk in his hands. "I imagine though that she's been becoming more and more headstrong and stubborn and probably a little reckless in the last couple of years."

"Why?"

"Well, in her mind, she doesn't really have much to lose anymore," Pops replied.

"What? Peter O'Hara would be devastated if he lost his little girl, and she knows that. I know she does," Jamie immediately argued.

"Peter O'Hara doesn't even know he has a little girl half the time."

"Alzheimer's, Jamie," Frank clarified. "Put in his disability almost two years ago."

Jamie laughed mirthlessly with tears in his eyes. "Shit. I didn't even know," Jamie muttered. "You know what? I do just feel guilty. I gotta be back on tour at nine. Do you mind if I just crash in my old room?"

"Of course not," Frank replied as Jamie silently went up the stairs.

Pops watched as his son picked up the phone and started dialing. "Who are you calling at this time of night?"

"A friend in the gang unit."

"You think Jamie's right?"

Frank shrugged slightly. "I think he may be overreacting, but I'd hate to think I talked him out of it if he was right."

* * *

Jamie knew Renzulli knew that something was wrong, but Renzulli also apparently knew that asking about it was just going to set off an explosion. So they spent the first hour of their tour with Renzulli chattering away and Jamie just nodding. When Renzulli finally ran out of things to talk about, they spent another hour in uncomfortable silence.

"Okay, kid, this is killing me. I know you're the strong and silent type, but I gotta know what's going on in that over-educated head of yours."

"It's nothing, Sarge, I just...ran into an old girlfriend last night," Jamie answered evasively.

"Was it Sydney?"

"No, she was long before Sydney."

"Your first girlfriend?"

"Not exactly, but she was the first one that mattered," Jamie replied quietly.

"Oh...your first love, then," Renzulli concluded. "That would be hard. What happened?"

Just then an alert of shots fired less than two blocks away rang out over the radio. Jamie was relieved when Renzulli responded and let their conversation drop. They entered the building with their guns drawn. No one was running from them, but people were certainly closing their doors. They got to 3C and cautiously nudged open the cracked door. Jamie was sure he stopped breathing when he saw what was on the other side of the door: a three-year-old girl sitting in a pool of blood emanating from a young man on the ground. When he leaned down to get a pulse from the vic, his breath caught in his throat again. The shooting victim was Darnell Williams.


End file.
